<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>long story short by time_streams</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29792631">long story short</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/time_streams/pseuds/time_streams'>time_streams</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fanfiction, Fluff, H/D Cluefest 2021, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Humor, M/M, Pre-Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 16:34:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,589</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29792631</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/time_streams/pseuds/time_streams</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone's written about Harry's secret raspberry jam recipe. Also, they write fanfiction about him. Obviously, he using his investigative prowess to find them.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>H/D Cluefest 2021</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>long story short</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/xanthippe74/gifts">xanthippe74</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=unicorninthelibrary">unicorninthelibrary</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Prompt #73:</p><p>After the war, the wizarding world discovers fanfiction, written by anonymous witches and wizards and distributed by owl. Harry is a popular character, especially in stories by one particular author, who seems to understand him better than his friends. Can Harry find out who's behind the stories and figure out if they're trying to expose him or if they're a friend--or more? (Please don't make Draco's pen name something that would clue Harry into his identity!)</p><p>Thanks to H for the alpha/beta/etc. </p><p>Thanks to H/D Cluefest Mods for the extensions and hosting this lovely fest.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I</p>
<p></p><div class="letter"><p>
    <em> What if you could write out the lives of the rich, the famous, and the unreal? </em>
  </p><p>Lovegood Smith Davis </p><p>Present:</p><p>WixFic</p><p> </p><p><b>History:</b> </p><p>WixFic is the brainchild of Luna Lovegood, Zacharias Smith, and Tracey Davis. The Hogwarts alumni are members of 1999’s “Eighth-Year” Class. The trio started the project as an attempt at post-War unity. According to Lovegood, the post-War atmosphere led to an “over infestation of Wrackspurts''. When Parkinson Publishing acquired the Daily Prophet in 2000, a vacuum was created in the publishing world. LSD stepped in and introduced a new form of writing - WixFic. </p><p> </p><p>
    <b>How Does It Work: </b>
  </p>
<ul>
<li>Authors submit their work using enchanted parchment licensed by LSD (Master Parchment aka MasPar)</li>
<li>Readers can find new works in the monthly booklets (sent out on the 1st of every month) and subscribe to whichever stories they like (for more details on subscription look at the attached leaflet)</li>
<li>Readers are sent chapters by owl as the author updates. You can comment underneath the chapter! The comment section is linked to the writer’s MasPar.</li>
<li>Upon completion, the individual pieces bind together to form their own booklets. </li>
</ul><p> </p><p>
    <em> Sign up today for a free trial!  </em>
  </p><p>
    <em> *LSD is not an affiliate of the Daily Prophet or any other members of the Wizarding Press Core </em>
  </p><p>
    <em> **LSD does not own any of the content created by users of WF. WF is merely an archive for fan content. </em>
  </p><p>
    <em> ***Any and all information(s) about real-life subjects on the archive are not factually accurate.  </em>
  </p></div><hr/><p>II</p><p>Suspect # 1 - Daphne Greengrass; The Publicist</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="letter">
  <p>
    <em> QuillsAreTerrible </em>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b>Harry gently turned the frame over. The glass was cracked but the photo itself was not damaged. </b>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b>The Slytherin Class of 1991 scowled back at him. Amid the sea of silver and green, he found the target of his missing persons case - Isabella Flemming. </b>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b>Flemming had disappeared after the return of You-Know-Who in 1995. At the time, her disappearance was written off as the result of Death Eater activities. But something about the unsolved case had always struck Harry as false. Her absence was too neat - it had seemed like she had been erased from virtually everything. But the Cold Case Subdivision of the Aurors had recently picked up a trace of her magical signature near Falmouth. </b>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b>As a reward for Harry’s stubborn refusal in closing the case, Robards had taken him off active field duty and transferred him to Cold Cases for the sole purpose of solving the mystery of Isabella Flemming. The Head Auror had hoped that this would dissuade Potter of his inability to follow authority, but alas it had only emboldened his refusal to bend the knee.</b>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b>. . . </b>
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p>Daphne Greengrass did not get paid enough. The PR market had died out during the War. Magical Britain, with its sudden uptick in War Heroes, was a veritable goldmine for any publicist worth their salt. And Daphne Greengrass was a pure-blood, Slytherin socialite. The job had practically been created for her. Unfortunately, with all this going for her, it vexed her to no end that she was not being properly remunerated. </p><p> </p><p>She knew this because she was running her business out of Muggle London (magical real estate costs took to the skies post-War). Because she had only just broken even, 15 months after she had moved into an office. Because she was a Slytherin whose family had remained neutral. Because, frankly speaking, most of her clients were idiots. But the main reason she knew she did not get paid enough was that she knew there was not enough gold in the world to properly appreciate the services she did to the community in serving as the PR rep for Harry Potter. Who was currently sitting in front of her, stating his case for investigating an anonymous writer.</p><p> </p><p>He had been one of the first people she had taken on as a client. And at the time, it had been an important step in unifying the public. A business relationship between a War Hero and a member of Slytherin House had done wonders in public perceptions of her Housemates. But, as time went on she sometimes questioned the wisdom of taking on such an endeavor. To be fair, most of her work with Potter was quite straightforward. The usual contentions with the Wizarding Press Corps, event scheduling, charity management, and so forth. </p><p> </p><p>They talk about many things where Harry Potter is concerned - his kindness, bravery, generosity, the sheer magical power. The thing they don’t tell you about the Chosen One is his utter lack of impulse control. So, when she wasn’t minding the WPC, it was Potter’s harebrained schemes and notions that she was after. </p><p> </p><p>At this moment, he was on a quest to unmask a WixFic writer, who apparently had a scary amount of insight into Potter’s psyche. And he was debating the merits of hiring someone to find this person or to undertake the “investigation” himself.</p><p> </p><p>“So, do you want to see it?” he asked, interrupting her Potter Spiral.</p><p> </p><p>“See what?”</p><p> </p><p>“My notes? On who the writer could be? You see, I’ve narrowed it down to someone from Slytherin. The amount of detail that went into describing the “atmosphere of the common room”. And the way they wrote that one piece on Nott. Speaking of which, I haven’t-”</p><p> </p><p>“Harry, just give me the damned thing,” she interrupts, throwing her hands up in the air. <em> WHY me, </em> she wondered. <em> What have I ever done to deserve this? </em></p><p> </p><p>Potter’s “notes” were a whole case file. </p>
<hr/><p>III</p><p>
  <em> From the Case Files of Harry James Potter </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The Anonymous Author </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Background: </em>
</p>
<ul>
<li><em>QuillsAreTerrible (hereafter known as QAT) is a writer on WixFic. </em></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Has an ongoing relationship with HJP
<ul>
<li>Appendix A - HJP
<ul>
<li>Section 27 - Food Preferences, Breakfast</li>
</ul>
</li>
</ul>
</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Slytherin
<ul>
<li>Appendix B - Slytherin Common Room</li>
<li>Appendix C - Theodore Nott
<ul>
<li>Section 3 - Allergies, Flowers </li>
</ul>
</li>
</ul>
</li>
</ul><p>
  <em> Suspects: </em>
</p>
<ul>
<li>
<em>Daphne Greengrass </em>
<ul>
<li>Doesn’t have sufficient time to write</li>
<li>Why would I EVER want to write MORE about you, Harold? You are LITERALLY my job!” - Direct Quote</li>
</ul>
</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Astoria Greengrass</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Theodore Nott</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Pansy Parkinson</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Blaise Zabini</li>
</ul><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Notes:  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> At this time, the investigator is quite certain that suspect nos. 1 and 2 are not responsible. He feels that the most likely candidate is suspect no. 5. However, it is to be noted that bias due to existing relationships with other members of Slytherin House may have prevented this investigator from including them on this list.  </em>
</p><p>
  <b> Just write Draco, you prat.</b>
</p><p>
  <em> Comment added by Daphne Greengrass, upon viewing case files. </em>
</p>
<hr/><p>IV</p><p>Suspect #2 - Astoria Greengrass; The Life Coach</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="letter">
  <p>
    <em> QuillsAreTerrible </em>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b>Harry didn’t bake that often. The precision reminded him of Potions and that was something he didn’t like to think about, thankyouverymuch! However, he did like making jam. And he made too much jam, so he had to make biscuits. </b>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b>This particular batch of raspberry jam was making him reconsider the art of jamming altogether.  The summer heat was worsened by the warmth from the range, berries happily stewing and refusing to thicken, causing Harry to be at his wit’s end.</b>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b>. . . </b>
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p>Harry’s friendship with Astoria was simple. He came to her with the ideas he wouldn’t dare bring up to Hermione - the Jam Shop, Artefacts Roadshow, Potter the Potter, etc. - and she would nod sagely at him. She would then produce the relevant brochures and convince him to try whatever health fad she was on that month, followed by an hour of meditation.</p><p> </p><p>This month, much to his utter dismay, the fad was Dirigible Plums. He silently cursed Draco for introducing her to Luna as he pushed the soup (?) around. </p><p> </p><p>“Well HP? What do you think?”</p><p> </p><p>This was another thing she did. The initials. But he only liked it when she did them.</p><p> </p><p>“What do I think about the Plums? I’d rather not say.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, yes. I had forgotten Luna might have done these already. I’m sorry to say these might be a miss this month.”</p><p> </p><p>“Probably. I had some questions I wanted to ask you. Now, I don’t think it’s you but due diligence, right?”</p><p> </p><p>She tilted her head and gazed at him. “Maybe the Plums would be better as jam,” she added, seemingly out of nowhere.</p><p> </p><p>“I take it Daphne has talked to you then.” Harry sighed and brought out his hastily hidden notepad. Might as well drop the aura of mystery. Damn Daphne and her meddling ways. </p><p> </p><p>“She did. You know it’s not me. And I even have proof,” she said triumphantly, pulling out this week’s work from QAT. “I have never seen you make jam.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry was baffled. “What does that have to do with anything?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, for one, I am allergic to raspberries. Second, the way this person writes about the whole process is way too detailed. Which means that either you know them or they have an enviable imagination.”</p><p> </p><p>This was why he liked talking to her. She had hit the nail on the head with what was bothering him about this piece. Up till this point, the writer had been quite careful with their descriptions of Harry - as true as their characterization had been, they did not include specific details about his home or relationships. But something about the jam piece had been . . . intimate. </p><p> </p><p>He sighed, running his hand through his hair. He settled back into his seat, steering the conversation to writing, writers, and writing workshops. Astoria swiftly pulled out a brochure for an upcoming crime/mystery-themed one in Muggle London. He finished the meditation session and headed back to Grimmauld.</p>
<hr/><p>V</p><p>Suspect #3 - Theodore Nott; The Art Therapist</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="letter">
  <p>
    <em> QuillsAreTerrible </em>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b>Theo was fascinated by hexagons. Since the time he was a child, he had been chased by dreams of hexagons. They weren’t even scary but something about the eerie repetition of hexagons in varying sizes and shades of yellow worried him.</b>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b>His parents considered him to be an odd child, chasing after dreams that chased him. The hexagons shaped him - he was almost sorted Hufflepuff, only going to Slytherin after pleading with the Hat; his love for Spring; his hatred of gold, a garish shade of yellow indeed. But, the mystery of the hexagons caused him constant grief. </b>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b>Until they lead him to the bees. </b>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b>Now, at the ripe old age of 36, Theo thanks the hexagons. For without them, he wouldn’t be the Bee Keeper. And he wouldn’t have the Honey Store. Most importantly, he would not have little Adora Nott, his daughter.</b>
  </p>
  <p>. . .</p>
</div><p>Theo’s studio was quiet. This was odd for a Wednesday afternoon, but Harry wrote it off when he saw a sign on the blackboard - <em> ALL CLASSES CANCELLED WEDNESDAY to FRIDAY. FOR REFUNDS, OWL TRACEY DAVIS. </em></p><p> </p><p>He looked around at the empty room. Nott had turned to art after the War. After he was disowned by his parents, he started an art studio. Three months after he was cut off, Aquila Nott was introduced to the Wizarding World. </p><p> </p><p>Six years later, he was now running (quite successfully, in Harry’s opinion) an art therapy program, that catered to both magical and non-magical folk, with Dean Thomas. </p><p> </p><p>“Potter? What are you doing here?” Theo asked as he stumbled to a stop.</p><p> </p><p>“ I wanted to talk to you about something. Is everything okay? You look . . . frazzled.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, it mostly is. Aquila’s sick. Some sort of Muggle flu. But I can talk for a couple of minutes?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure, it won’t take long anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>They sat down at a table near the blackboard. Harry cleared his throat and pulled out his notepad. Nott looked at him expectantly.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you know about WixFic?” Harry finally asked.</p><p> </p><p>Nott looked a bit confused before clarity came over him. “Are you talking about that writing thing Luna does with that Smith guy?” Harry nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Not much. Between the studio and Aquilla, I don’t really have much time for authoring or whatever. Besides, I’ve never been one for reading. I much prefer visual mediums, as should be fairly obvious,” he concluded, casting a careless hand out at the room surrounding them. </p><p> </p><p>“You haven’t read anything on there? They write about all of us, you know. In fact, Luna was talking about introducing this thing where people can send their art around.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nope, not a word. Although the art thing sounds interesting. Dean might know more about it and most likely already has qualms about licensing rights or something like that. What are you looking for?”</p><p> </p><p>Harry let out a frustrated sigh and brought him up-to-date on the why’s and what’s of his predicament. “You know, today’s post was actually about you,” he added as he finished. </p><p> </p><p>“Really? Was it an in-depth character study and analysis of my childhood dreams?”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe. Did you want to be a beekeeper? If so, then yes.”</p><p> </p><p>Nott froze. He shook his head, straightening in his seat. “Yes. I did want to be one. But not many people know that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. So it is someone we both know then. I told Hermione I knew this person. But she was convinced that I was just bored and found something new to obsess over. Why does no one ever believe my instincts!”</p><p> </p><p>“Potter, even if we do know this person, why does it matter who they are? From what you’ve told me about them, it’s not like they’re out there slandering you or your friends. They just want to be anonymous. Why not let them be?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because. Because they know things and… because I just want to know, okay? I don’t have a good enough reason,” he trailed off.</p><p> </p><p>Harry knew why he wanted to know. But it was difficult admitting truths about oneself out loud. And he certainly did not need to tell Nott.</p>
<hr/><p>VI</p><p>Suspect # 4 - Pansy Parkinson; The Journalist</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="letter">
  <p>
    <em> QuillsAreTerrible </em>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b>It was a crisp November morning, 3 years after the War when Harry Potter decided to get a new animal familiar. He would always mourn his beloved owl, but it was time to move on. </b>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b>Hermione had bought him a new owl but it wasn’t quite the same as having a pet. He decided that he must immediately make his way to the Menagerie.</b>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b>He didn’t want a toad, a kneazle, nor a rat. Perhaps not a crup, a ferret, or a cat. </b>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b>Hissing disturbed his inner monologue. A magically altered corn snake slithered to a stop in front of him. </b>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b> <em>You are the Speaker, are you not? Tales of you are common amongst the Menagerie. But I do not care for them. Tell me about eggs.</em> </b>
  </p>
  <p>. . .</p>
</div><p>Harry would rather sit through a 5-hour lecture by Professor Binns on the highlights of the impact of fashion on the Goblin Wars than try to arrange a meeting with Pansy Parkinson. But he needed to know, so he had no other choice than to get Ron to do it. </p><p> </p><p>Unfortunately, with Ron and Hermione on their honeymoon, the rest of the Weasley clan in Romania, Draco at a Potions conference, he HAD to do it.</p><p> </p><p>So, he hunkered down and produced a long-winded letter describing his current predicament, asking for a meeting - with the promise of an all-expenses-paid dinner, and a warning about Astoria’s Dirigible Plums kick. </p><p> </p><p>To which he received the following:</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Potter, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Tempting as it is to have you pay for, I must decline. I have nothing to do with this foolish WixFic quest you’re on. Which I must say, I’m insulted you didn’t come to ME first. But I will point you towards Blaise. He was always a mysterious one.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Pansy Parkinson </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Editor - The Daily Prophet </em>
</p><p>
  <em> P.S. Rain check on that dinner Potter - I might even trade it in for a plus one to the Witch Weekly Gala next month. Put it on your calendar! </em>
</p>
<hr/><p>VII</p><p>Suspect # 5 - Blaise Zabini; The Photographer</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="letter">
  <p>
    <em> QuillsAreTerrible </em>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b>Harry finished the incantation and swallowed the potion. It didn’t taste as terrible as he thought it would be. He felt himself get lighter, his face becomes sharper, and with a start, he realized he was shrinking. It was over in a matter of seconds. He stretched his wings out and took to flight.</b>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b>A small blackbird was flying over the Black Lake.</b>
  </p>
  <p>. . .</p>
</div><p>“Hello, Blaise,” said Harry, closing the door to Zabini’s office behind him, as he entered the room.</p><p> </p><p>Blaise absently nodded a greeting in response. He was editing the pictures for his next series - <em> The Unseen Hands. </em>Naturally, the series was not about people, but something inanimate. That was the only detail he had and would provide when asked about his work.</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose you’re here about the writing?”</p><p> </p><p>Harry was startled out of his reverie by the sudden question. Blaise had a habit of dropping all pretenses of pleasantry. There would be silence or a lull in the conversation and he would jump in with a very direct (sometimes invasive) question.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, I am.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, it’s not me.”</p><p> </p><p>And that was it. Blaise had just destroyed what had been weeks or months of obsession in one fell swoop. </p><p> </p><p>“Why are you so curious about this? People are constantly writing or talking about you. What makes this person so unique?” </p><p> </p><p>“Because either they really see me or I am just that lonely that I have spent weeks reading into something that doesn’t exist,” was what came out of his mouth. Harry froze. That was <em>not </em>what he had been expecting.</p><p> </p><p>The truth was complicated for him. It had always been that way. Most people didn’t care about it unless it was telling them something they did not want to hear. Harry had learned early on that truth-telling would only get him in trouble. A horrible thing to learn, and even harder to put into practice. He was honest to a fault (when he wasn’t clouded by tunnel vision).  So he learned to tell people the truth in a way they wanted to hear it. And as an adult, he had perfected the technique. </p><p> </p><p>Now, there was this person. Who was most likely one of his friends. And they had not only shown they knew who he was but had also put it out there. A true version of himself was out there for people to learn about. It should have been invasive but for whatever reason, it was comforting.</p><p> </p><p>Blaise had returned to his editing. He liked talking to Blaise. There was always time and space for him to process whatever came up during their conversation. </p><p> </p><p>“I think . . . that it’s been nice to know that someone I care about cares enough about me to see me as I am. I’m not saying that none of you do but to have actual, physical proof on hand is comforting. Someone cares enough to spend time writing out all these beautiful ideas about me. And when they do, people appreciate their work. It’s a roundabout way of self-affirmation. And I just want to thank them. That’s all.”</p><p> </p><p>Blaise smiles at Harry, reaching out to pat his hand. He pauses thoughtfully, “Harry, will you tell me the truth?”</p><p> </p><p>“More honesty? Might as well. I am on a truth-telling spree right now. Wonder what other deep truths will pop up.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure, you don’t know who this is? Because, I know none of the others do, but I have a small inkling of who it might be. And I think you do too.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry frowns. It’s not like the thought hasn’t crossed his mind. Of course, the first person he had wanted it to be was Draco. And then when it led him to his friends, a small ember of hope had been kindled with him. Which only grew when he realized it must be a Slytherin. But as much as he wants it to be Draco, he’s also afraid of what that would mean.</p>
<hr/><p>VIII</p><p>Suspect # 6 - Draco Malfoy; The Potioneer</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="letter">
  <p>
    <em> QuillsAreTerrible has posted a message.  </em>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b>Readers,</b>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b>I was surprised when you lot latched onto my work with such fervor.  Thanks for your continued support and appreciation. I’ve always thrived on the admiration of my followers. </b>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p><b>Now for the point of this. I am taking a break from writing to focus on my original work. I’m telling you this in hopes you won’t write endless notes asking for more. This is a pre-emptive NOT NOW to all those </b> <b> <em>lovely </em> </b> <b>requests.</b></p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b>You’re welcome,</b>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <b>QAT</b>
  </p>
  <p> . . .</p>
</div><p>Draco’s been back for five minutes when Harry shows up. The Potions conference had been such a bore. He had attended in hopes that he could meet Ro Lux, an American Potions Master, who had made strides in counteracting the mood-related effects of Wolfsbane. Lux dropped out at the last minute due to a sudden onset of Spattergroit. All in all, it had been a complete waste of time.</p><p> </p><p>He’s glad to be back home though. He drops his bag off in his bedroom and goes to check his Owl Box. Draco’s only been gone for a week, but from the state of his post, it seems like he’s been missing for months. His Owl Box is bursting at the seams. The attached Owl Treat Feeder, which only needed to be refilled every 3 months was empty.</p><p>Draco never understood why his Slytherin group refuses to switch to one of those new message services (licensed to WWW); it’s a variation of the WixFic parchment. All you need is one sheet and a unique wand movement and <em>voila </em> - instant communication. </p><p> </p><p>He is still sorting through his mail when the knocking starts. He’s a bit surprised that someone is already calling on him, seeing as he hasn’t let anyone know he’s back yet. He places the pile down, quickly moving to open the door and stop the incessant noise. </p><p> </p><p>Harry’s standing at the door with a slightly manic look. </p><p> </p><p>“Potter? Is everything alright?”</p><p> </p><p>“Er, hi. Everything is . . . fine? Can I come in?”</p><p> </p><p>He steps back and moves to his sitting room, knowing Potter will follow him in. He sits down on the loveseat and motions for Harry to sit too, but he seems too keyed up and begins pacing in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>Draco wonders if he should interrupt or get worried. This wouldn’t be the first time that Harry’s randomly barged in with that look on his face. The night Granger had given him his new owl had resulted in three hours of pacing, with increased mumbling before Draco had to force him to stop. He had sat him down with a cup of tea and began describing the brewing process for his modified version of a Calming Draught. He was just getting to the good part when Harry had interrupted him and spilled the entire Owl Saga. </p><p> </p><p>Harry finally comes to a stop in front of him and pulls out a sheaf of parchment from his pocket. He drops them on Draco’s knees and sits in the armchair opposite him.</p><p> </p><p>“Why?”</p><p> </p><p>Draco swallows uncomfortably as he shuffles through the pages. He did not think that his friends would find his WixFic name; he especially did not expect Harry to find it. Even more for him to have subscribed to everything he wrote.</p><p> </p><p>“So you’re not even going to ask if it is me? We’re just jumping straight to the whys? No hows or whens? Just why?”</p><p>“Stop stalling, Malfoy,” says Harry. There’s something Draco doesn’t recognize in his tone; it’s not unfriendly but it is quite forceful.</p><p> </p><p>Draco removes the stack from his lap, placing them on the table to his side. He swallows and wipes his hands on his knees. His mother would be appalled with his behavior -<em> It does not do to show others how anxious we are, dearest. It is unbecoming. </em> Draco shakes his head, steeling himself before he looks at Harry’s face.</p><p> </p><p>“I got drunk one night. It was a couple of weeks after Aquilla had come home. Blaise had stepped in and demanded Theo take a night off. He took over for two days, switching off with Astoria and Greg, just to make sure Theo got some sleep. Theo had come over, just that afternoon, and we had spent the entire time reminding ourselves of the “good ole days”. I told him how proud I was of him and that I was beyond happy for how he had turned out to be. Naturally, I embarrassed him enough for both of us to get terribly awkward and the solution had been to get absolutely blasted on Firewhiskey. When he left, I was still feeling maudlin and came up with the brilliant idea to write down whatever was feeling. I passed out with my quill still in the inkwell.” Draco paused for a second, summoning two bottles of Butterbeer. He took a sip, before continuing.</p><p> </p><p>“After I woke up and went through the usual fuck me for drinking routine, I decided to read whatever I had written. It wasn’t terrible. I was still editing the thing when an owl came in with whatever WF I had been subscribed to. It was an impulsive choice to rewrite the entire thing and submit it but I did it anyway. So that first piece about Theo was posted.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, I get where you were going with other people. But Draco, you wrote about me. You are still writing about me. Why?”</p><p> </p><p>“Was. I was writing about you. Not anymore. I’m taking a break,” he added hurriedly before Harry could ask. </p><p> </p><p>“I wrote about you because . . . well because I was tired of everyone writing you the wrong way. Really, it started as an annoyance with people refusing to see beyond the Chosen One thing. Then it turned into something else. Harry, I would apologize, but I’m not really sorry. I was careful to mostly skip the real things. But the thing was, once I started writing, I couldn’t stop. It’s just, it was easy to pretend you got everything you deserved when I was writing about it. Because you do deserve everything you want. And I liked writing about you being happy,” Draco sped towards an uncomfortable stop. He was beginning to ramble, the argument had become circular, and really, was it his fault he couldn’t explain why if he didn’t understand it himself?</p><p> </p><p>Silence filled his sitting room. Draco was starting to slip into a panic. He didn’t know what was going to happen now. It was out there, <em> almost all </em> of it anyway. Harry looked to be debating something. He got this furrow between his brows and his fingers seemed to be permanently attached to his temple whenever he was coming to a difficult decision.</p><p> </p><p>He suddenly got up and moved to the seat beside Draco. He turned to face Draco, taking hold of his hand (which unbeknownst to Draco had been pulling apart the frayed edge of one of his cushions).</p><p> </p><p>“Draco, I have been obsessing over this for weeks. And I’ve been going around asking people if they’ve written it, even though some part of me suspected it was you all along. I had hoped it was you. Your writing makes me feel the way it feels when you’re around me. I like that feeling.”</p><p> </p><p>Draco doesn’t really know what to say, except - “I like that feeling too.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry smiles and suddenly, it’s like something has shifted between them. He’s not entirely sure what’s happening but he just feels lighter. </p><p> </p><p>“Do you want to get something to eat? We can catch up over some curry?”</p><p> </p><p>Draco nods shyly. They gather their things and exit the apartment. Draco locks his flat and turns to leave. There’s an atmosphere of anticipation around them, but Draco’s not worried. Dinner could be something more, or it may just be two friends catching up. And if Harry casually holds onto Draco’s hand the whole time, well he’s not going to complain.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This work is part of H/D Cluefest and the creator is currently undercover. You can follow the fest at our <a href="https://hd-cluefest.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a>. Creators will be unmasked on the 15th April.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>